Gilded Bay deserted, my organs can go on without me

He shivered slightly at the strange language Phocion used, following his gaze to the sky. The feeling of the priest's eyes on him again drew his attention back, his own silver gaze reflecting many emotions. Cortland was, in some small way, nervous; this would be his life now. The sun's warmth and light would be scarce for him, and the mountain he would call home was both unfamiliar and, as far as he knew, nowhere near any ties he might have in this land. The priest would be his only friend, if Ava did not come back.
The Mayfair smiled at Phocion's urging; he regretted nothing. The splash caught him off-guard, but before he could react his friend was running. He took off after him with a laugh, not at all minding the way the water soaked him through. He was determined to catch the priest— and when he did, he'd... do something. Probably sit on him until he apologized.